I made my annual pilgrimage to Friendship today. Offered up the roses...as always, one dried from the final bouquet Skip sent me from the hospital and one fresh...The dried one to remind me of his love, the fresh one to remind him of mine. I only have two dried roses left, for years 9 and 10...when they are used up I will have to rely on memory...perhaps I will start putting two fresh ones on the water then...
Can he be 8 years gone? Can it be 15 since I fell in love with the man dressed "all in green"? The hole in my heart still gapes...and part of me is always missing...like nerve tissue that never regenerates...like a limb that no longer feels phantom.
Today when I tossed the old and then the new roses onto the water, Siri swam out to fetch them. She grabbed the fresh rose in a soft mouth and dropped it gently when I told her to leave it. 
Then Buddha walked over to see what she had been interested in...he sniffed and left it undisturbed. 
Soon both roses drifted together...as though kissing in the shallow water.
Thank you, sweetie. Your words mean a lot to me. Skip was, indeed, a good man and I know he loves Friendship because I always feel so close to him there. The pups really sensed it, too.
Posted by: ElbowGrease | August 30, 2007 at 12:19 AM
Ellen,
Thanks for posting your refelctions on your time in Friendship and the photographs of the dogs with the roses this year~~~~ They gave voice and imagery to my very deep and heartfelt feelings from afar..... Skip was so very special to me.... Friendship seems like the perfct resting place, desn't it? ;-) For me, not only does his life represent what a true friend is and CAN BE, but my memories of him continue to restore my faith in the existence of good men ;-)
much love.....your sister,
Theresa
Posted by: Theresa Gilliam | August 29, 2007 at 08:18 PM